


Remember

by Anything00but



Series: Remember series [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bad Friend Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Happy Ending, M/M, Mates, Memory Alteration, Mild Smut, Pining, Sad Peter Hale, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:13:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25716361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anything00but/pseuds/Anything00but
Summary: Stiles meets a man with the most beautiful blue eyes he has ever seen on a street and the man seems to know him. Stiles has no idea who the man is but cannot forget him. The man comes back in Stiles' dreams and Stiles starts questioning what he remember is real and what's not.
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Remember series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1878070
Comments: 19
Kudos: 476





	Remember

His eyes are cold and lifeless as he stares at Stiles.

“You have no idea who I am, do you?” The man asks grimly taking in all Stiles’ small twitches and nervous waving of his hands.

“No I do not. I’m sorry but am I supposed to know you?” Stiles asks with a nervous smile ghosting on his lips as he waves his hands around in a small motion, nervously.

The blue eyes shining with unshed tears the man turns away from Stiles, shaking his head a few times. Muttering something under his breath that Stiles doesn’t quite catch.

“No, I suppose not. I must have mistaken you for someone else. Excuse me”, The man with the most beautiful blue eyes apologizes and walks away leaving Stiles standing there and wonder what just happened.

Stiles watches as the man disappears into the crowd with a ache in his chest before turning around to continue towards the university and his first class of the day. But the weird feeling did not leave him the whole day.

The weird ache Stiles doesn’t remember ever feeling but it feels so familiar. It’s like he is missing a part of himself. But that doesn’t make sense.

“Hey dude you have been so out of it today”, Scott says shaking hand before Stiles’ face in the evening that night back at their shared apartment, “What’s on your mind?”

“Some man stopped me today and he seemed like he knew me. But I have no idea who he is”, Stiles answers with a thoughtful look without even thinking about before answering, “I don’t know, it just felt strange. Like I was supposed to remember him.”

Scott seems to tense as Stiles tells him about the strange thing that happened to him that day. His emotions flash from angry to confused and back to neutral. Stiles doesn’t comment it. Scott watches Stiles intensely like trying to find out if Stiles speaks the truth before smiling and shaking his head.

“Someone just confused you with someone else. It’s nothing”, Scott says with a bright smile, way too bright, “You should not think about it so hard.”

“Yeah, you’re right”, Stiles nods agreeing and offering Scott a smile back, “I can help you with the homework.”

“That’s my man”, Scott says slapping Stiles’ back as he shows him the problem he has been struggling.

\-----------

During that night Stiles dreams of those blue eyes but they are not sad like they were when he saw them. Those eyes are full of happiness, even if Stiles dares to say, love. And it’s all directed towards him.

Sun is shining from behind the man with the most beautiful eyes, making him look like an angel. Stiles is sure he says that out loud because the man laughs. The laugh sounds familiar and it makes Stiles’ heart beat faster in his chest. 

Warmth floods his whole body as he blushes and looks away from the man. But the blue eyed man lifts his face gently with two fingers. The smile Stiles gets when they lock eyes makes him blush all over again.

Stiles looks around and notices flowers growing around them two. It feels like a declaration of love. And holy shit! 

Did he do that?

Yes he did, his dream mind provides him.

Stiles can do magic. It’s the first, even in his dreams he has never had magic. He stares at his fingers as they tingle and glow golden.

They are in a forest, with trees all around them. It all feels like Stiles belongs there, right there next to the man with blue eyes. The man leans down tracing a thumb over Stiles’ lower lip before placing a soft kiss on them.

Stiles wakes up gasping for breath. His eyes trace around his dark bedroom trying to find something to focus. 

The clock.

Stiles concentrates on it and it’s soft glow of numbers. 

He can feel the soft lips on his own. He can feel the warmth of the other body. 

It’s weird.

It’s really weird even for Stiles to have such a lovely dream about a stranger he talked under a minute. With a huff of how ridiculous he is Stiles falls face first on his pillow trying to get rid of the ache in his chest that seems to be back.

\---------------

After that night Stiles is more aware of things around him. He seems to hear just a slightly better than the day before. He can hear clearly what is going on the apartment next to theirs, what people on the other side of the lecture hall are talking about.

He sees the colors more vibrant than before. Everything feels more alive, like the world is calling for him. The plants looks like they are reaching for him when he walks past them. He stares at them a lot that day, earning looks from his friends but no one questions it. Excusing his behavior as his usual Stilesness.

And the weirdest thing is that Stiles thinks he can feel people's auras around them. Lydia feels like controlled energy, Erica feels like power and sassiness if you could feel it. Boyd also has power in him but also some sort of calmness that Erica doesn’t posses. Isaac feels tense and skittish but only around him. But all of them has one thing that connects them. They all feel like lies, like ash, like something dark is lingering around them.

Scott is the weirdest. His brother from another mother feels so wrong. He feels like lies, something dark that Stiles wants to run away from. It makes him feel confused. Why he would feel like that from his best friend?

Every person in the university grounds Stiles passes that day feels more welcoming than his own group of friends he has had since high school. 

But then on his last lecture the aura his professor Deaton emits makes Stiles gag as soon as he walks in the hall. The feeling of loathing, the buried anger, of unspeakable darkness makes Stiles’ eyes water. It’s somewhat similar with what Scott feels like but Stiles doesn’t think the two know each other. 

So there can’t be a connection?

But one’s an incident.

Two’s a coincidence.

And three’s a pattern.

Mister Deaton seems to keep an extra keen eye on him, making Stiles’ uncomfortable. He has never really like him and he has no idea why since he is almost everyone's favorite professor.

“Can I talk to you after class mister Stilinski?” Professor Deaton calls out just as he is finishing the presentation.

“Uh… I guess”, Stiles stammers out staying seated as all the others walk out.

“You seem distracted today. Is everything alright with you?” Deaton asks before Stiles can panic about what he has done.

Stiles wants to scream at his professor to get away from him as he feels nauseating the closer Professor Deaton walks. But that’s not how he was raised.

“Yeah I’m fine. I just have so much on the plate at the moment.”

“Well. If you ever need help with anything I’m here for you. We all teachers are”, Deaton tells him making Stiles shudder as he watches a dark cloud float around the man.

“Thanks, I guess”, Stiles answers avoiding to look at the man, “Can I go? My friend is waiting to walk together back.”

“Sure you can. I’m sorry to hold you back. I was just concerned”, Deaton tells letting Stiles go.

Making himself walk instead of running Stiles walks out of the lecture hall. When he looks behind him he can see Deaton watching him with keen eyes. Another shudder runs through him as he closes the door behind him, wanting away from the creepy man.

It’s all really confusing. Like he always has had these powers but they are only now waking up.

“Dude you really need to snap out of it”, Scott says as they are walking back to their shared apartment.

“Sorry, I didn’t sleep that well last night.”

“A nightmare?”

“Yeah. I dreamt that I failed chemistry”, Stiles lies offering a laugh to Scott earning a slap on the shoulder from Scott.

“That’s like the worst kind of nightmare. You are lucky you survived it”, Scott laughs letting the topic drop, clearly believing the lie.

\-----------------

Stiles is back in the forest but this time he is alone. It’s still sunny and the forest is bright without any lingering shadows that would scare him. He feels calm.

He walks along a path that runs in the middle of the forest. It feels so light there. There are no forest animals but Stiles can feel something. It feels warm and loving, like it’s calling for him.

There’s a house at the end of the path. A huge blue house standing in a clearing, surrounded by the most beautiful flowers Stiles has ever seen. As he inspects them closer he notices them being his mom’s favorite flowers. Roses all shades of red, lilies from red to blue, poppies, carnations, freesias, and his mom’s absolute favorites colorado blue columbines.

Stiles finds it weird that he dreams of his mother’s favorite flowers and how they all seem to thrive there in the middle of the forest. The huge garden around the house full of living, healthy flowers that should not be able to live this up north.

The house has two stories with those cute white windows that Stiles absolutely loves. There is a huge patio that seems to go around the house with stairs to the front door. The door is made of dark oak.

Walking up the stairs Stiles tries the door finding it open. It doesn’t even feel weird to walk just right in. It feels like… coming home after a long day. The hallway is light grey colored with a few painting hanging here and there of landscape. A few pairs of shoes sitting by the door with a stand full of jackets. 

Stiles stops looking at them. Half of those jackets are his. He runs hands through them and they really are his while the other half feel expensive compared to his own jackets. More stylish and Stiles is sure they are design. 

“Hello?” Stiles calls out.

It’s quiet and he gets no response.

Continuing to explore the house he finds a living room on his right. It’s decorated with two light grey couches, walls covered with huge bookcases filled with books. Going through them with a glance Stiles finds few of his absolutely favorites, a few books in a language he cannot recognize and some that look like straight from a fantasy movie with all their spells and creatures from night. 

A TV stand with a huge TV and a gaming console. In a neat row are all Stiles’ favorite games.

On the wall there is a family portrait of a big family. Inspecting it closer Stiles finds the blue eyed man in it. It must be his family picture. There are almost thirty people in it. One third of those being children of various ages. 

Then there is one quite newer picture with same people, but in addition of a few new faces. Spouses of the grown ups. Stiles’ heart stops as he sees himself standing next to the blue eyed man, holding hands and looking happy beyond words. 

Next to it is a picture of himself and the blue eyed man holding hands on the altar before the priest. Silver bands on their ring fingers. Both of them looking striking in their suits, Stiles has to admit.

Stiles stares at the photo mouth hanging open, head spinning. Is this his house? Does he own it with the blue eyed man? 

On the table next to the window is picture of his mother, of his father and a family portrait of their little family. That can’t be. He lost those pictures a long time ago. He has no idea where the pictures disappeared but they are there just standing. In a house in the middle of the forest somewhere in the god damn America.

Turning around and heading out of the room he finds kitchen with a modern decor with light colors. An island in the middle of the room dividing the area. The dining room is right next to it, no wall separating the two rooms. The dining room table being huge that would easily seat at least twenty people.

There are two other doors Stiles leaves alone, something calling him to the upstairs. Stairs up there are four doors. Stiles opens everyone of them being curious.

Behind two doors are what seems to be guest bedrooms and behind one is a bathroom. Opening the last door he finds what must be the main bedroom with how spacious it is. The bed is huge. Stiles could lay there in a x position and his limbs would not reach the ends. 

The covers navy blue, soft to the touch, satin most likely Stiles thinks. Walls are calming dark blue. Night stands on both sides of the bed. On one side is a batman comic and on the other is a classical novel. There’s a picture on the comic side of the table. 

It draws Stiles in as he moves closer to inspect it closer.

It’s a picture of him and the blue eyed man kissing. They are wearing black suits and standing under an apple tree that blossoms, both are wearing gold bands on their left ring fingers. So this photo is after the ceremony, Stiles thinks absently with a growing headache.

He drops the photo.

Now that he thinks about it all he has seen is up to his dreams of what he wants in the future. A beautiful house, a big family, a spouse to spend his old days. Even what seems to be his wedding is something he has always thought his wedding would look like.

“Stiles!” A call comes from downstairs startling Stiles from his panic.

There are steps coming up the stairs and toward the bedroom. The blue eyed man opens the door looking concerned at Stiles.

“Is everything alright love?” The man asks walking closer arms open, welcoming.

Stiles can only stare at the man. The man reaches for him but before they can touch Stiles wakes up shaking violently like he is cold but he in reality he is burning up. His head hurts like hell and it feels like it’s going to explode.

What the fuck? Stiles thinks as he rushes to the bathroom and pukes his guts out. 

Everything feels wrong. And Stiles can’t wrap his head around what it is that feels so wrong.

“You alright?” Scott calls from outside his bedroom door.

Shit shit shit! Stiles thinks as he turns his head too fast to look towards the door. He could tell the truth, but something nasty turns in his stomach, making him dry heave over the toilet.

“I’m fine!” Stiles calls out as he can breath again.

Scott opens the door coming to Stiles, a frown on his face.

“Are you sure? You look sick”, Scott says as he stares at Stiles sitting on the floor, hugging the toilet.

“Must have eaten something bad. Nothing to worry about”, Stiles manages to say before he has to look away from Scott’s face as the boy’s eyes seem to glow red as the darkness surrounds him.

“Well, Kira is over and we were supposed to have a night but we will go to her place since you are sick”, Scott says little frustrated, “You sure you can manage?”

“Yeah yeah”, Stiles mumbles a feeling of hurt washing over him out of nowhere, “I’m sorry to ruin your night.”

“Hey, it’s nothing we will just go to her place. No harm done. Get well brother”, With that Scott is off and not even a minute later he can hear the front door open and close.

\---------------

“I’m telling you Erica”, Stiles wails his hands as he keeps an eye on Erica’s little cloud of darkness hovering around her head, “It felt so real.”

“Stiles. It was just a dream. You said it yourself that you were sleeping”, Erica sips her milkshake the darkness staying still but darkening just a grade.

“I know that. But it felt more like a memory that I could walk in”, Stiles sighs dropping his head on the diners table, “I just don’t know.”

“Well, maybe you have visited some place similar and your mind is playing it to you now”, Erica suggests with a shrug eyeing Stiles like she ever has before.

At least Stiles doesn’t think she has.

“Yeah maybe.”

“Hey don’t be like that. I believe you. All about your memory dreams and weird superpowers”, Erica says offering Stiles curly fries.

He has told Erica he can feel other people differently than before. Not mentioning the darkness at all. That he will keep to himself since he has no idea what it means.

“They are not superpowers. They are more like… powerful feelings”, Stiles tries to explain, “If it’s easier to understand.”

“It really is not but it will get better. You could have a lot of stress at school right now. Your mind could be trying to help you cope with it by creating this magical dream place for you where you feel safe and you are in control of everything.”

“I hate that you are studying psychology”, Stiles laughs and the darkness lightens around Erica.

“Hey, our group needs a therapist with how messed up we all are”, Erica laughs too.

It’s then when Stiles feels eyes on him. He looks around the diner seeing Professor Deaton sitting on the other side of the diner, eyes hard on him. When he notices that Stiles is looking at him he offers a smile before sipping his drink.

Stiles turns back to Erica shuddering as Erica laughs nervously.

\---------

“I don’t want to lose him!” Stiles screams as he throws a vase at the blue eyed man in his rage.

“Stiles you know he is just using you. Don’t be stupid”, The man dodges the vase with ease letting out a snarl.

“He is my brother. I’m supposed to help him when he needs me.”

“Scott doesn’t need your help. He is too lazy to do anything by himself!” The man yells trying to get closer to him, “Why don’t you see it that he isn’t any good?”

“You just want to keep me all to yourself”, Stiles counters with hatred in his voice before his voice breaks as he continues, “You hate that I have a life outside of you.”

“That’s not true and you know it”, The man growls, hands clenching at his sides as he stares at Stiles, “Is that what he is telling you?”

“Why are you trying to make this Scott’s fault?”

“Because before he knew that we are together we didn’t have these fights every single fucking night!”

“So I’m not capable to form these thoughts by myself?” Stiles asks with venom not missing a beat, “So now I’m this weak human that is prone to be manipulated?”

“That’s not what I am saying and you know it”, The man sighs looking at Stiles sadly, “I want you to think about this Stiles. Really think about this. I love you and I don’t want to fight with you every night about the same thing. I have told you many times that you are free to hang out with whoever you want. I am only asking why it is always after you come home from spending time with Scott that we have a fight.”

Stiles stands there quietly. The man has a point now that he thinks about it that he didn’t want to see before. Still doesn’t want to believe.

“I will still help him”, Stiles whispers, “He would do the same for me.”

“Would he though?” The man asks as Stiles walks out on him.

The dream jumps forwards to where Stiles is crying on the floor in the man’s arms in their bedroom. The man is trying to calm Stiles down as he sobs and wails in his arms. The bedding is a mess behind them, there is the broken vase on the ground where it shattered earlier that evening.

“Shh darling. I’m here”, The man whispers in his ear as Stiles cries against his shoulder, “It will be alright eventually.”

“He is dead”, Stiles whispers between sobs as his fists clench around the man’s shirt, “I won’t ever see him again. I… I will...”

“You will always have him in your heart darling. He isn’t going anywhere. You will remember all the memories you have made together and laugh one day.”

“It hurts so much”, Stiles sobs, “To bury my last living parent. I thought dad would die of old age, he would see me growing up to be a man he could be proud of.”

“I know baby, I know”, The man rocks them gently until Stiles calms down enough so he can breath with ease, “Your father was already proud of who you have grown up to be. He was so proud when you got into the university. He was proud of who you are and how loyal you are to those you consider yours. Don’t ever think your father wasn’t proud of you.”

Stiles is silent for a long time just sitting in the man’s lap. He doesn’t think anything, just listens to the man’s steady heartbeat under his ear. It’s grounding. Telling him he still has one person he loves. And who loves him back without conditions.

“You were right.”

“Hm?” The man asks running his fingers through Stiles’ hair making him lean on the touch.

“Scott was using me. He doesn’t care what happens to others as long as he gets his dick wet.”

The man stays quiet as he keeps on holding Stiles.

“Aren’t you going to say I told you so. Because now would be the time for that”, Stiles says drily with a broken chuckle.

“It would only be cruel and I don’t want to hurt you. We are all humans. We all make mistakes. Some lighter, some harmful but we will make it through”, The man says kissing Stiles temple.

“Expect neither one of us are human”, Stiles laughs quietly hugging the man.

“I’m sorry for your loss darling”, The man whispers, “I will never leave you alone.”

“Promise?” Stiles asks hopeful as he buries his face in the man’s neck, but he doesn’t get the comforting scent he expected to find.

Stiles knows these are memories so why he can’t remember the man’s scent.

Stiles wakes up tears falling down his face. Rushing to the bathroom throwing up again everything he has eaten that night. He feels tired and alone. It’s a new feeling. Like he is missing a part of his life.

No one seems to take what he is telling as the truth. Granted, he only has told Erica, since she felt like the safest option at the time. But now Stiles isn’t so sure if he should tell anyone if he can’t even trust his so called brother. He knows what he sees in his dreams are memories but why he has no memory of the man. He seems important.

Crying even harder because now that Stiles really thinks about it he can’t remember how his father died. He knows his father is dead but he doesn't know how or when. Why cannot he remember that? Seems like a pretty fucking important thing to remember and not forget.

\-------------

“When did my father died?” Stiles asks the next morning from Scott as he comes home from night out with Kira.

Scott stops chewing his food to look at Stiles with huge eyes.

“Some time ago”, Scott answers vaguely eyeing Stiles, the darkness hanging more heavily on his shoulders.

“How long ago?” Stiles insists looking Scott straight in the eye.

“Two years ago. Are you feeling alright?”

“No I am not. I don’t remember when my own father died or why”, Stiles cries out feeling hopeless, his fingers tingling.

Scott stares behind him at something his aura turning more dark, more threatening.

“Stiles you need to calm down”, Scott hisses grabbing Stiles’ hand yanking him forward an inch.

Something crashes behind Stiles making the man turn with a jump, to look at a shattered glass on the floor. He doesn’t remember putting it on the edge so it would fall off.

“I must have placed on the edge”, Stiles mutters as he gets up to clean it up.

“Are you sure you are fine?” Scott asks looking suspicious the dark aura around him slowly dispersing, “Are you feeling any dizziness, headaches?”

“No. I’m fine. You can go”, Stiles says pushing Scott out of the kitchen.

Sitting back on the table Stiles feels bad at lying to his best friend but something in him tells him to not trust the man. The whole group of his friends has started to feel wrong. Like they are all keeping an eye on him and holding something from him. Granted they are all keeping an eye one him, Stiles has noticed them looking away from him always he turns to them. Their auras changing from the warm to darker, colder, more calculating.

“Ah”, Stiles pulls his hand away from the shattered glass he is cleaning as one shard breaks his skin. 

Blood dripping from his hand he rushes to the sink. He puts his hand under the water and watches as the blood washes away. It tingles again. It’s weird.

Pulling his hand to inspect it closer he sees the wound knit itself together, leaving behind perfect skin. Staring at it wide eyed Stiles turns his hand around trying to find the wound. He’s not imagining this. He had a wound. He has a drip of blood on the ground to prove it.

“What the heck?” Stiles shouts shocked hand waving before his face. 

“Stiles?” Scott comes to see what his friend is about with backpack hanging on his shoulder.

Stiles shots his hand behind his back: “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for class?”

“Yeah?” Scott asks back suspicious, “I think I will need to stay out later today. I have to meet a friend.”

“Yeah, see you later then”, Stiles calls as Scott walks out looking at him weirdly.

That day Stiles doesn’t go to class. He stays in his room doing little tests on himself. Like paper cuts, little cuts with a knife. All of them heal in a few seconds leaving behind perfectly smooth skin like the cut never happened. 

Few drops of blood manage to fall on his shirt as he freaks about the first few cuts healing. Going through his wardrobe trying to find his red hoodie his hand graces over something soft that doesn’t feel like belongs to him.

He pulls out a blue sweater. It’s not his.

It’s not Scott’s either.

The sweater is soft under his fingers, feeling expensive. And Stiles doesn’t own anything expensive. Of that he is sure.

For reasons unknown to him he pulls it to his nose, inhaling the scent. It knocks him backwards. It’s so familiar. The throbbing pain in his head comes back as he scents the sweater. 

It smells like the woods in his memory dreams. It smells like home and safety. It smells just like his mystery man. Stiles just knows it. The musky undertone on the shirt is the man’s own scent. It makes Stiles’ feet waver. His cock is hard against his pants.

He doesn’t even question it at this point.

Hand wandering downwards rubbing on top of the jeans Stiles trembles at the pressure. Zipping the jeans open letting them fall on the floor and laying on the bed, he kicks his boxers off somewhere in the room. 

Keeping his face buried in the sweater he wraps his hand around his hard cock pumping a few times. He is leaking heavily, he notes absently pleasure making thinking harder. He doesn’t remember ever feeling so aroused. Breath hitching he draws the foreskin back teasing the tip, his hand running on autopilot. 

This is not his usual method, or rather he never remembers doing this. He prefers going straight to action and a quick release to get on with his life.

This feels intimate, like he is teasing himself for someone else. Other hand on his cock he slowly turns around lifting his bare ass up in the air. It feels right. Face buried in the mattress and the sweater under his face, his now free hand goes to his neck that is tingling. His hand on his cock moves behind him, covered in precume, slowly teasing his entrance.

Stiles feels a scar and he presses on it. The blue eyes flashes behind his closed eyes and he is cumming with a broken cry one finger pushed inside.

The whitening shock of his orgasm makes him fall flat on his own cum on the cover. Panting heavily he turns around pulling his finger out. He should feel embarrassed to have come from his ass, without touching his cock, but this feels right. Like it should be.

He lays there enjoying the afterglow face still buried in the sweater. His mind perfectly silent as he just is. Hand trailing back on his neck feeling the scar there. 

Stiles shoots up from the bed rushing before a mirror. There it is. A scar looking a lot like teeth marks. How he has never noticed it before? Sure he would have paid attention to a teeth marks on his freaking neck. He has no explanation of why and it’s like he can ask from Scott.

Later that night Stiles is wearing the sweater like it’s his own. Scott comes home on the phone.

“But Deaton… are you listening to me. It’s not working”, Scott says before seeing Stiles ending the call, “Hi.”

“Hi”, Stiles nods going back to the show he had been watching hand on his neck tracing the bite mark absently.

“Where did you get that sweater?” Scott asks walking slowly closer looking around the apartment like expecting to find something.

Or someone.

“I found it in my wardrobe. I didn’t remember having it but it’s so comfy”, Stiles says watching closely Scott’s expression.

The man looks angry, confused but angry.

“It’s impossible!” Scott yells, “You shouldn’t have it!”

“Why not?” Stiles asks, making his voice sound confused at his friends outburst, “I like it. It must have been my father’s. It’s so much like his clothes he liked to wear.”

This seems to calm Scott down. So it really belongs to the man with blue eyes, Stiles notes. And Scott doesn’t want him to know something about it.

“Yeah. It must have been. I’m just confused. I thought you got rid of everything that belonged to your father”, Scott says, trying to sound casual, but failing miserably.

“I guess something must have slipped past me. But I’m glad it did.”

“I guess it has slipped”, Scott mumbles staring at the sweater like it has offended him somehow.

It must have since the dirty glares Scott is giving him as he wears it the rest of the night.

\---------------------

“Stiles!” The man yells as he rushes to Stiles’ side.

“Step away from him”, Scott snarls locking eyes with the blue eyed man.

“You need to leave Scott if you know what is good for you”, The man growls back, eyes shining electric blue while Scott’s flash red.

Stiles doesn’t even question his memory dreams. He knows something fishy is going with his friends. And he suspects they are not as human as they appear to be. All of his friends are standing at the back, watching the situation. Glaring at the man with blue eyes.

He wants to go with the man with blue eyes but his legs take a step towards Scott. 

What?

“Stiles”, Scott makes his puppy eyes at him, making Stiles frown inwardly, “You need to come with me. This man tried to kidnap you.”

“He did?” Stiles hears himself asks as he turns to look at the man with blue eyes.

“Don’t you remember?” Scott asks looking at the man with a gleeful expression, “Did he give you something?”

“Stiles, you were at the bar with us last night before you just suddenly disappeared”, Lydia says standing next to Scott, looking as perfect as ever, “We were so worried.”

“I… I don’t know”, Stiles whispers feeling so unsure of himself, “We were out last night?”

“Yes we were. We were celebrating my birthday”, Erica says with a smile that looks wrong on her face.

“Stiles you need to come with me. Whatever they did to you we have time to prevent it”, The man says, desperate, trying to take Stiles’ hand.

“Don’t touch me!” Stiles yells panicking, confused and disoriented, “I don’t know you!”

“Stiles?” The man asks his voice taking even more desperate tone than before and it makes Stiles’ heart ache, “You were with me last night. We were at home having a home night. Remember?”

“I don’t… I don’t”, Stiles stammers over his words, the world spinning and his vision blurring.

“I’m sorry but my friend doesn’t know you and wants you to leave”, Scott says as he pulls Stiles to himself, rubbing his cheek to his and the man looks a second away from ripping Scott’s head off.

Scott looks ominous, like he knows he has won this, whatever this is. And Stiles feels helpless as he tries to stay standing.

“Stiles”, The man pleads taking a step closer to him, slowly not wanting to scare him, “Don’t do this to me darling.”

“You need to let Stiles go before we call the police on you. What did you even tried to do with Stiles? Rape him? Get him unconscious so he wouldn’t fight? Do you like when they are boneless under you?” Lydia asks voice dripping with venom Stiles has never heard from the strawberry haired girl.

“I would never touch him if he didn't want it! And you know it!” The man screams voice breaking, “I’m not the bad guy here Stiles. Darling come home with me and lets figure this out.”

Stiles feels himself flinch, clinging closer to Scott. It feels wrong but at the moment it feels more familiar. More safe to follow his friends who all gather around him.

“I don’t know you”, Stiles cries out, feeling utterly confused and scared.

“Darling you need to come with me. We need to get you home”, The man tries tears gathering to his eyes as he stares at Stiles with those blue eyes of his.

“Stiles is coming home with me. He doesn't need to go anywhere with you creeper. You must be a pervert trying to get young boys to come home with you”, Scott snarls making the man with blue eyes growl at him warningly.

“Scott”, The man growls lowly, face shifting its shape to something more animal like, like a wolf, “You need to let my mate go. Right now.”

“I think that’s Stiles decision with whom he goes with. With his best friend or some strange man who drugged him”, Scott says with something like a glee in his eyes as he watches Stiles’ shaking form.

“Stiles come here”, The man commands face still shifted, “I need you to come to me darling.”

“I don’t know you”, Stiles whispers brokenly panic raising as he stares at the man’s face, “And why do you look like that?”

“What did you do to him?” The man yells at Scott, attacking him with claws out

Scott pushes Stiles away making him land on his ass on the hard ground with a cry. Stiles watches confused as his best friend and a stranger fight with claws. He doesn’t know who he wants to win. He feels scared as the tears fall.

After a minute of fighting it comes clear that Scott lacks the finesse of fighting but he compensates it with power that the man with blue eyes doesn’t have as much.

Scott pins the man on the ground with claws at his neck, eyes glowing red, ready to rip it open.

“Scott!” Stiles yells not wanting his best friend to hurt the man.

Scott lets go getting up. He walks to Stiles asking if he is alright but Stiles stares at the man on the ground.

The man is crying. Sobbing Stiles’ name as Stiles just sits there on the forest ground staring at the stranger. Scott talks to the man with hard words talking something about leaving the territory or facing death. All his friends saying something terrible to the man and it just doesn’t feel right to him.

“What did you do to him?” The man yells from the ground hitting the ground with his fist glaring at Scott who sneers above him, looking smug about having won.

“I saved him from you”, Is Scott’s answer before he turns to Stiles, “We need to get you away from him. He is dangerous.”

Stiles lets Scott help him up as he stares at the crying man. The man is pleading for Stiles to not go. To come home with him so they can fix this. That Scott has done something to him so he won’t remember. Stiles feels dizzy, like being drugged. So he goes with Scott and his friends, listening the man crying behind them as they walk away.

\-------------

Stiles wakes up crying, the ache in his chest hurting like never before. He is clawing his chest leaving behind red lines. The shirt he is wearing flies on the floor. He can see a golden ribbon flying out of his chest. 

It’s warm and familiar. Like it’s always been there.

Maybe it has and he just doesn’t remember. That has been a recurring event in his life during there two months.

Stiles feels hatred towards Scott at the moment. The man with blue eyes clearly cares about Stiles dearly and Stiles knows he loved the man... loves the man more than anything. And Scott took him away from the man. 

He flies out of his bed, opening his laptop having research to do. He needs to know what the word mate means. What means territory and pack and how they seem to connect everything?

It’s morning when he slams the laptop shut. He pulls first fresh clothes on with the blue sweater he found yesterday and is running out of the apartment before Scott can ask anything. It feels suffocating to be so close to Scott. 

He runs in to Professor Deaton who is standing in their kitchen. 

“You seem greatly distressed Stiles. Is everything alright?” Deaton asks eyeing him before turning to look at Scott.

“He’s been acting strange lately. I don’t think it’s working anymore”, Scott complains as he looks at Stiles.

“What is not working anymore?” Stiles asks tensely as he tries to get past his professor, who is standing between him and the door.

“I need you to sit down so I can check you Stiles”, Deaton says and the darkness tries to cover Stiles.

Stiles dodges the darkness falling on the floor. He looks both Scott’s and Deaton’s shocked faces. So… it’s not a good thing he can see the darkness, Stiles guesses as he stares at the two. Before Scott can say anything Stiles is sprinting towards the front door. He throws it open and runs down the hall as fast as he can. His mind screaming at him to get away.

He can hear Scott running after him shouting about Deaton having to check him so he can feel better. To wait for him, to stop and come back. Stiles needs to get away from here.

He now knows that Scott is a werewolf, as ridiculous it sounds it fits with his memories. The sweater he is wearing belongs to his mate. The scent on it being the factor that Scott doesn’t like. Stiles still has no idea what Scott did to him and how his creepy Professor Deaton has to do with it but he will find out as soon as he gets his memories back.

He just needs to find his mate and everything will be fine. He knows it.

Being close to the man who did something to his memory so he won’t remember his one and only is making Stiles’ skin crawl. So he runs. He runs as fast as he can and as far as he can following the golden ribbon on his chest.

Three blocks between him and Scott he is finally able to breath. And the ribbon shining with new glint. Like it’s happy that Stiles remembers his mate. 

Now he only has to find him.

So he follows the ribbon, feeling where is tugs him. He must look like a madman walking a step forward before taking two back as he tries to read the directions. He doesn’t know how he will find his mate or how the ribbon will help him but he believes. 

God he believes he will find his forgotten love.

The morning slowly turns to day and the day turns into an evening. Stiles has walked across the university area, past it, left it behind him. His phone ringing a few times through the day and when it starts to get dark. But he believes he will find the man with blue eyes.

“Stiles?” Comes from behind him suddenly, voice he remembers from his memory dreams making him stop on his tracks.

Turning around Stiles stares at the blue eyed man who is standing behind him at the park he had been crossing. The man looks tired, dark circles under his eyes. He looks ill, like Stiles’ mother when she started losing her mind. It’s not a good look on the man.

The golden ribbon connecting to the man’s chest. The ribbon humming happily having found its other half.

Stiles pulls the man in his arms with a broken cry, making the few people around them give them weird looks. Hiding his face in the man’s neck as he wraps his arms tightly around the man, Stiles takes a deep breath in. The scent washing over him making him sob harder.

“Peter”, Stiles cries as the man clutches on to him with a cry of his own as he calls him by his name.

“You remember me”, Peter cries on Stiles’ shoulder, burying his nose in the boy’s neck, “Oh darling.”

“I remember you”, Stiles nods tears running down his face holding the man in his arms.

This is what Stiles has been missing. He feels whole in Peter’s arms. Feels safe and loved. All the memories come rushing to him. He remembers how they met, how their first kiss went down, how Peter proposed to him. Stiles remembers his spark that is running warmly just under his skin. He remembers everything.

Stiles holds harder, afraid that Peter would disappear if he lets go. Peter isn’t any better. The man is holding him tight, sobbing in his neck. They have both missed each other, even if Stiles didn’t remember Peter. He still missed the man. Stiles can feel it now that he knows where to look.

“I’m so sorry Peter”, Stiles cries as they pull apart a little so they can look at each other, “I’m so fucking sorry. I should have never trusted Scott after what he did to my father but I wanted to give him a chance to explain himself.”

“Shh darling, I know”, Peter runs his hands over Stiles’ face, scent marking him, covering all other scents on him, “I know what Scott did. Doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.”

“I’m here now”, Stiles says pulling Peter in a kiss.

It feels like sparks are flying between them as they kiss. Stiles has missed this. And it feels like Peter feels the same, kissing Stiles like he is the air he needs. And it might be true, they need each other.

“What happened?” Peter asks desperately as they pull apart, “Last time you didn’t even..”

“I know”, Stiles interrupts him not wanting Peter to remember the hurt, “I dreamt of us. I knew they were memories. They were too detailed to be dreams. After you stopped me on the street I couldn’t get your eyes out of my head.”

Peter kisses him again.

“I missed you so much darling”, Peter purrs burying his face in Stiles’ neck breathing in the scent that is Stiles, “I missed your scent.”

“I missed you too. I actually found one of your sweaters in my closet. It gave me the last push to remember you”, Stiles laughs freely now in his mate’s arms, “I have never smelled anything so wonderful.”

“Me too darling, me too”, Peter whispers in Stiles ear.

“So”, Stiles starts looking at Peter, “Do you have a place here or?”

“Darling you should know better”, Peter purrs happily as he pecks his mates cheek before taking his hand and starting to lead him towards it, “Of course I have a place here. You think I would let you go that easily.”

“It’s been two years”, Stiles whispers letting Peter lead.

“I know”, Stiles gets in return.

It takes five minutes to Peter’s penthouse. Because of course it’s a penthouse, why wouldn’t it be. Stiles walks around the rooms touching and marking the house with his scent. Peter’s wolf is purring with happiness of his mate marking his den, accepting it. 

“With who have you been during this time?” Stiles asks sitting in Peter’s lap who sits on the couch, fearing the answer.

Peter looks away and it’s an answer enough for Stiles. His wolf has been alone these two years. It’s a long time for a pack animal to be without pack and touch. Stiles will fix it.

“Peter”, Stiles purrs running his hands through Peter’s hair, “I want you to show me the bedroom.”

Peter doesn’t need to be told twice. He lifts Stiles up in a bridal style carrying the boy in his bedroom. It’s just as fancy as the rest of the apartment. Light blue covers, white walls, dark bed frame. Picture of the two of them on the nightstand.

Peter lowers Stiles on the bed like he would break if handled too harshly. It’s intense, the kissing full of desperation of lost time. Clothes being tossed on the floor next to the bed. Stiles’ arms full of a purring wolf who is happy to have his mate back. Kisses trailing down from his lips to his leaking, hard cock. Love bites covering his body, markings of possession. A promise to never let go. 

Moans, broken cries of pleasure and pleads echo around the room as Peter works Stiles open with his fingers. The boy on his hands and knees on the oh so familiar position, presenting to his wolf.

“Please”, Stiles cries, lost in the pleasure of his lover’s hands on him, “Peter.”

Slowly Peter pulls his fingers out of the boy replacing them with his cock. It’s big. And it’s been way too long since the last time. They go slow. Peter pushes in to the hilt, waiting for Stiles to adjust. Only when the boy is trying to fuck himself on Peter’s cock the man places his hands on Stiles’ hips to hold him still as he slams home.

“Peter”, Stiles’ cries echo in the room with Peter’s moans of Stiles’ name.

Whispers of lovely words in his ear Stiles comes undone by Peter’s cock. His whole body shaking as the orgasm wrecks through him leaving him boneless, aware just enough of Peter’s cry of his name as the man comes in him.

The blissful afterglow is full of scenting. Peter rubs his cheek on Stiles’ shoulder, chest, head. Rest of the boy is smeared with the wolf’s come so Stiles would smell more like him. And Stiles loves it. Being marked by Peter so thoroughly, inside and outside. 

Tears running Peter’s face as he runs his hands over Stiles’ body. Stiles stops his wandering hand intertwining their fingers, holding hands tightly. 

“Talk to me Peter”, Stiles whispers in the quiet of the room where they lay naked, Peter in his arms shaking.

“I thought I would never see you again. That I would not ever have you in my life”, Peter whispers back after another round of heavy scenting, “The last words the pack said-”

“I remember”, Stiles whispers kissing Peter’s hair, “No need to repeat them, I remember.”

Peter swallows around a lump in his throat: “I started to believe them after a while. That I had used you against your will. That I had ra-”

“Stop it!” Stiles commands with a stern voice cutting Peter before he can say the word, moving so he is laying on top the older man, “You should never doubt that you have done something to me that I didn’t want. Never. You hear me Peter?”

Peter nods hiding his face in Stiles neck as he hugs the boy closer to him. Stiles can hear the sobs die down the longer he lays on top of the wolf, grounding him with his scent. 

“We will make them pay”, Stiles whispers in Peter’s ear kissing his neck before continuing, “They will pay for what they did to me and for what they made you live through.”

“Yes”, Peter agrees arching in Stiles touch, and Stiles can feel the older man’s hard one pressing on his thigh.

“We will hurt Scott and Deaton and the pack. We will make them sorry that they ever messed with us”, Stiles murmurs in Peter ear, nibbling it with his teeth, “And we will make love next to their cooling bodies.”

“Yes”, Peter cries desperately as Stiles places his teeth on Peter’s mating scar, biting down lightly.

“Tell me what you want love?” Stiles commands grabbing Peter’s cock making the man cry for a whole different reason.

“I want you. Inside. Need to feel you. Please?”

“Anything”, Stiles purrs as he positions himself so he can push in.

With one perfect thrust Stiles is rocking in and out with a steady rhythm. The love of his life crying out in pleasure under him. He decides Scott, Deaton and the others can wait until the near future. Stiles has more important task at hands. 

To remind his mate how much he loves him.


End file.
